


closer than before

by graydar



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, COVID-19, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25910806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graydar/pseuds/graydar
Summary: Maybe he’ll just take this one chance. It might be fun, might be something to do, might be more than that. He’s fine with not knowing. All anyone is doing right now is not knowing. It’s the new trend.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 93





	closer than before

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick note! this is set in present day and covid-19 is talked about in depth. no one is personally affected by the virus, it just explores what it might be like to fall in love during the pandemic. if you look towards fic as a way to escape from the reality of our world today, no worries! but this fic may not be for you.

Phil wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have to be. But the last few months of not working and wondering if his job would still be there at the end of all this had been hard. It’s nice to have a little bit of his routine back. Even if it is kind of scary. Even if he does come home every evening with his ears sore from the elastic of his mask digging into them all day. Even if his responsibilities at the shop have gone from taking orders and making drinks to keeping track of whether every patron has a mask, stops to sanitize their hands upon entering, and stands on the socially distanced stickers on the floor. Not to mention, the looks he’s gotten for asking people to wait outside when they’re at capacity make him want to run and hide.

At least he’s making money again. At least he can pay rent. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

He could have it way worse. And the new regulations haven’t made work that much more difficult. Sure, he’s always on alert now and keeps a bottle of disinfectant in his back pocket, but at least they’re still here, still standing in the midst of the chaos.

Phil actually really loves his job. He loves the shop, he loves knowing the regulars’ names and orders, he loves the smell of coffee all day long, he loves the music playing throughout the shop, especially when it’s his day to pick a playlist. He sucks it up easily, ties his apron around his waist and his mask around his ears - like suiting up for battle, except it’s just a coffee shop.

There’s already a woman waiting outside when he turns on the neon OPEN sign and unlocks the door. She’s wearing a mask, thank god. And she waits for Phil to move back behind the counter before coming inside.

Phil’s really relieved that they’ve taken all these precautions. It was the only way any of the employees agreed to come back to work, and management didn’t even put up much of a fight. It makes him feel like he’s doing well, like he’s able to come back to work without feeling guilty that he might just be part of the problem. His mum had said they all had to figure out what their “new normal” is. This is Phil’s. Plastic gloves and cracked skin on his hands from washing them so many times every day. A mask with the word COFFEE screen printed across it. And his best customer-service smile behind the mask, that no one can see.

The woman scans the menu, tapping her fingers against her legs. Her feet are perfectly lined up with the ones on the sticker on the floor.

“What can I get you?” Phil asks.

The woman hums and then orders something Phil can’t understand.

“Come again?” It’s the bloody mask. He’s found in the few days he’s been back to work that that’s the hardest part. People don’t articulate.

He turns down the music just a little bit to see if that helps.

“Oh, sorry.” She speaks up and repeats her order. This time Phil can actually hear her when she says, “Can I get an iced mocha, please?”

She pays and he gets to work making her drink. He’s the only one in this morning, which is nice. He gets to pick the music, gets free reign of the space behind the counter, but he wipes over all the buttons and handles quickly after he’s done. Just for consistency’s sake.

He sets the lady’s drink on the counter, he hadn’t bothered to ask her name since they’re the only two in the shop this morning.

He washes his hands in the sink under the counter, humming the ABCs under his breath. He gets so into scrubbing the soap into his skin, he doesn’t even notice the woman leave.

*

Dan probably shouldn’t be here. He has beans at home he could grind and brew himself. He doesn’t need to go out just for a cup of coffee.

But Dan has been going crazy inside his apartment all alone. At the beginning, it was kind of a dream come true. He’d had time to catch up on sleep and take a break from work and didn’t have to worry about the stress of meeting social obligations. He could live his truth as his normal hobbit self in his dank, little apartment without interruptions.

But, it’s been months now and Dan’s been seriously considering getting a cat. He’s started talking to the pigeons outside his window. His houseplants now have names and Dan has thought many times about what they might look like as humans.

So, he’d never admit it, but he actually misses people. And general human connection. Or maybe he’s just horny.

He’s taken his one hour outside to go to the shop under his apartment. It’s basically staying home since all he has to do is walk down the stairs outside and round the corner to the front entrance. It’s locally owned and had to close down for a few months, so Dan doesn’t feel too guilty about paying for their overpriced coffee. He’s down for supporting local businesses. It’s not like he’s spending his money on anything else right now.

Or maybe it’s just more productive than blowing hundreds of dollars online shopping. Which, for the first few weeks of lockdown, had happened more than once.

He’d cut himself off after he’d thought seriously about buying designer trackies with black-and-white stripes running all the way down the legs. Most days he walks around in his oversized, stripey jumper, and nothing else from the waist down. He’d had a sudden vision of looking like a zebra, which he thought wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. What he’d imagined was kind of… avant garde. He got way too close to actually adding them to his cart.

That was the moment he knew he was going crazy.

He’s never done well with boredom, and up until that point he’d had enough around him to fill the silence of his flat. He had his switch and his xbox and pc. He had his graphic design job which wasn’t going anywhere in the switch to working from home, he already worked from home most of the time. He had weekly zoom meetings with his boss to make sure he was on track with the ever changing needs of their clients. He had his houseplants, which he kept healthy and watered. He had Netflix, mostly.

For the past few weeks, he’s grown restless. He’s played through every new game and revisited old favorites. Work has come to a weird standstill as everyone waits to see what happens next. Not even the trashiest shows on Netflix can keep his attention.

He’s spent most days lying on the floor in his tiny lounge, staring at the ceiling and imagining what it might be like to have someone to share his time with. Which is where the idea of a cat came from. He’s not the type of person to go adopt a cat on a whim, commitment issues and all that. But he went as far as to look up a few adoption sites and stared at the pictures of their cats for entirely too long. He got as close as looking up the phone number of one close by.

But Dan can barely take care of himself, obviously. There’s no way he could take care of a cat. Especially if it turns out to be some kind of demon cat that hates his guts and tears through his sofa. He’s not ready for the possibility of a demon cat.

His mum told him to go on a walk. Simple enough, but Dan hasn’t been outside in months. He asked if there was anything still out there. She’d responded that, yes, the world was still as it was before, just a bit different.

Today, he’s dusted off his shoes and opened the never-worn mask he ordered months ago and he’s decided to go to the coffee shop.

And it has nothing to do with the hot barista he saw arrive early this morning through his bedroom window.

*

The early morning rush comes and goes without incident. Everyone has their mask and uses the almost-empty hand sanitizer by the door. Phil will have to go replace it once this line has filed out. A few people sit at the outdoor tables on the shop’s patio, but most people come and go quickly. There’s no indoor seating open for now and it’s too bloody hot to sit outside for long.

Phil takes the next few orders and gets to work prepping the drinks lined up across the counter. He dumps ice in every cup, no one’s been too keen on ordering anything hot, and goes to the back to get some more milk from their stocked refrigerator. Half a gallon of whole and half a gallon of oat.

Phil knows how this works and it’s a good feeling to fly back and forth between the espresso machine and the register. He makes every drink like he’s some kind of expert, the barista muscle memory flexing after so many months of unuse. It’s not like he’s a good barista, their shop is mediocre at best. People come for the atmosphere and the free wifi and the coffee that isn’t just Starbucks trash. Even though, Phil actually really likes Starbucks trash coffee.

Phil is honestly surprised that people are still coming when all their indoor seating is closed, but they are. And Phil smiles at every single one of them behind his mask. Some of them ask how he’s been holding up. Phil awkwardly rambles, responding the only way he knows how.

The drinks are made and the customers are happy and Phil’s done a fine job. The shop is empty again and he can finally take a breath.

He goes around, wiping all the surfaces that might have been touched. He replaces the bottle of hand sanitizer with a full one and sweeps some straw paper trash into the bin. People still use straws even though their to-go lids aren’t the kind that use straws. It’s annoying, but the managers said they still needed to have the option just in case. The least people could do is throw the damn wrapper away, instead of dropping it on the floor.

Just like everyone else, Phil can find at least one thing to complain about it when it comes to work.

He’s wiping down one of the tables he saw a guy lean on while he waited for his drink when he sees someone standing outside, looking in through the door. He looks really awkward, like he’s not sure if they’re open or if he’s supposed to go inside. Phil understands, because with everything changing so often there’s uncertainty everywhere.

He stands up straight and waves the guy inside. He looks skeptical, like Phil is tricking him. And he waits a few extra seconds before opening the door and stepping inside the shop.

“Good morning,” Phil says, making his way back to the counter.

The guy looks around, apprehensive. He literally looks like an alien who’s just stepped foot on earth for the first time. Like, a coffee shop? I’ve never heard of such a thing! What are… chairs?

He spots the sanitizer and pumps way too much into his palm.

“Hi,” he says, without looking up from where he’s rubbing his very sanitized hands.

Phil waits behind the register, because this guy is clearly very awkward and Phil is also usually very awkward and it seems like not a great thing to mix.

He steps onto the first sticker on the floor. And looks up at Phil. “Am I supposed to order from here?”

Phil almost laughs, but he doesn’t because that would be probably rude and unprofessional. There’s about three stickers in between him and this guy, all spaced about two meters apart.

“Er, no. You can come up to the first one,” Phil says.

The next thing to happen would be the guy jumping from sticker to sticker, but he’s got more common sense than that, surprisingly.

He finally walks up to where Phil stands and looks up at the menu. He seems to read every single drink option available and Phil just kind of waits. He gets a good look at him and he starts noticing.

He looks familiar, but he can’t place why. Not really in an “I know you” kind of way, but more like he’s white with brown hair and so is most of the population. He’s also not unattractive. He’s got the prettiest brown eyes Phil’s ever seen. They look like coffee or chocolate or something Phil wants to eat. He’s tall, probably taller than Phil if he didn’t slouch so much. He’s wearing a jumper, which Phil can’t believe since it’s so warm outside. His mask is black and hides most of his face below his eyes. It’s weird, meeting someone without knowing what the bottom half of their face looks like. Maybe this guy is an alien and behind his mask there’s just a void.

He’s cute enough to be from space. If you’re into that sort of thing.

Phil might be, if he’s caffeinated enough.

*

Dan’s been here before. Before. When everything was normal and touching door handles didn’t make his brain short circuit. They have hand sanitizer, so it’s fine.

He hadn’t known about the sticker thing. That was probably stupid on his part. Common sense Dan seems to have checked out at the moment.

The barista is cuter up close. Dan isn’t about to blame his awkwardness on that, though there might be a correlation.

He’s been here before, but he can’t remember for the life of him what drink he usually gets. They’re a fancier coffee shop, with drinks separated by the kind of roast or if it’s single origin and shit like that. Shit that Dan barely understands.

He’s not trying to impress the cute barista either. Phil, which is what his name tag says next to a rainbow sticker, probably knows all about that coffee shit. He probably drinks a straight shot of espresso without even wincing. Dan’s not a coffee pleb, but he’s not pretentious enough to know about Kenyan roasts. And Dan can be pretty fucking pretentious.

“What can I get you?”

It’s been too long, but they’re still the only two people in the shop. He looks back to Phil and asks, “What’s good?” He musters up all his cool to do it. He almost leans against the counter too, until he remembers that that’s not something they can do anymore.

Phil hums. “Hm, what are you looking for? Something sweet? Light? Dark?”

So, he definitely knows what he’s talking about. Dan shrugs. “I’m not sure. What do you like?”

His eyes crinkle. Dan wonders if he’s smiling underneath his mask. “We’ve got this new lavender syrup. It’s really good in the lattes.”

“Okay. I’ll do one of those.”

Phil plucks a cup from the stack and starts writing the order with a sharpie. “Oat or whole milk?”

“Is it better with one or the other?”

“I’ve only had it with oat.” He points at himself goofily. “Lactose intolerant.”

Dan chuckles. He’s just a cute guy, Dan can’t help it. “Oat sounds good.” He’ll blame it on the loneliness.

Phil finishes writing the secret drink code on his cup and enters his order into the IPad. Dan pays and gives a pretty good tip. Phil plucks the cup from where it sits on the counter to make Dan’s drink, but stops after looking at the writing. He turns back on his heel and raises his eyebrows at Dan.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Oh! It’s Dan.”

He uncaps the sharpie again. “Dan?”

Dan nods.

“Okay, cool. Thanks.”

Dan looks around and sees there’s no one else in the shop. Maybe it’s standard barista procedure to ask every customer’s name, not just to keep track of the orders.

He stands by the far wall to wait for his drink. There’s a little seating area next to a few bookcases. Dan used to come down here to work some days. He’d sit in this corner and zone out on photoshop until the sun went down.

He remembers this barista too - Phil. He always worked alongside someone, taking orders and prepping drinks but rarely touching the espresso machine. He remembers his swoopy black hair and that some days he wears cute glasses. He remembers him humming along to some Britney song that they always play close to closing time.

Dan’s completely zoned out when Phil calls, “Lavender oat milk latte for Dan?” He scoots Dan’s drink to the front of the counter.

Dan takes it and smiles, but Phil can’t see behind his mask. He keeps forgetting that he’s even wearing it.

Phil’s eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches a little, so Dan thinks he’s smiling too. His eyes look mischievous or something. So maybe it’s more of a smirk than a smile. This kind of guessing game gives Dan butterflies.

“Thanks,” he says, quiet enough that maybe Phil didn’t hear.

His eyes go crinklier. “Have a good one, Dan.”

“You too.”

He doesn’t notice until he’s outside and halfway up the stairs to his flat that Phil’s written his name and number with a littley smiley face on the bottom of the cup.

*

He’s never done anything like that. It feels cheeky and not at all like something he would do. But Dan was cute and acting all flustered and Phil knows he’s not getting any younger.

It’s been far too long since he’s had someone. And yeah, this is probably the worst possible time to be dating. Martyn tells him after every failed relationship attempt - timing is everything.

Time has never been on Phil’s side.

Maybe he’ll just take this one chance. It might be fun, might be something to do, might be more than that. He’s fine with not knowing. All anyone is doing right now is not knowing. It’s the new trend. Are you going back to school in the fall? They ask. And they say, haven’t you heard? I don’t know! None of us do!

Dan doesn’t sit outside. He turns as soon as he’s out the door and uses his long legs for what they’re made for. And then he’s gone.

Phil doesn’t look longingly out the window. He doesn’t check his phone immediately after Dan disappears. He goes back to work and he doesn’t think about Dan at all. In any way.

*

Dan comes into the shop a few more times that week. He’s become a regular. Sometimes Phil is working and sometimes it’s a pretty girl with purple hair. He always orders the same thing and he never sits outside. Sometimes it’s crowded and he’ll go back up to his flat until it’s thinned out and he’s able to patiently wait on a sticker without worryingly calculating a distance between himself and all the other people.

He doesn’t text Phil.

He wants to, because Phil was cute and nice and didn’t make fun of Dan for acting like an idiot. But he’s done way too much overthinking in the past week and now he feels frozen. Phil already made the first move. It shouldn’t be hard.

He sees Phil a lot after the first day and Phil always smiles at him from behind his mask. So Dan knows Phil’s not angry with him, or disappointed that he hasn’t called.

Dan just thinks, what are we going to do? A fucking zoom date?

Using zoom as a form of communication drains Dan even more than regular face to face conversation. He doesn’t know why, but zoom dating sounds like a fucking nightmare.

And even before all of this, Dan just didn’t date. One time hookups don’t really work when you’re social distancing.

And Phil’s too nice for a one time hookup.

Maybe it’s all those commitment issues he has or the trauma or the depression or the anxiety or the - all the stuff. But mostly, Dan has no idea what to say.

He comes in one morning and the purple hair girl is there. Dan forgets her name every time, even though it’s written right there on her name tag. Izzie. He glues it to the back of his brain for the millionth time where it’s sure to be forgotten.

Izzie takes his order and he’s about to go wait in the corner where he likes, but he stops and asks, “Where’s Phil today?”

She looks a bit taken aback, like why is this random guy asking about another barista. “Uh? He’s off today so he’s probably just at home. Like everyone else.”

Oh, right.

“Why?” she asks.

She doesn’t let it go and Dan’s like, not sure what to do. “He…”

“Oh, Jesus! Are you the guy he slipped his number?” Her eyes light up and Dan’s stomach drops.

He almost shakes his sunglasses from where they sit on top of his head onto his eyes. Full incognito mode. He’s been caught red handed and he’s got nowhere to go. He’s sure he’s blushing, thank god she can’t see behind his mask.

“You are! You totally are! Hey, good for Philly. You’re well fit.”

Blushing intensifies.

“Um.”

“Oh shit! Sorry. He just- he was worried you were totally creeped out.”

“No! Fuck. I’m not- I’m not creeped out. I’m just… weird.”

She snorts. Dan likes her already. “We’re all weird, mate. Especially Phil.”

“Well, when is he working again?”

She glances down at something below the counter. Dan guesses it’s a schedule.

“Looks like Saturday.” Her eyebrows raise at Dan like she knows a secret. She sort of does. She’s already way more involved than he’d like her to be.

After she’s made his drink and he’s turning to go, he glances back for just a second to ask, “Is he really disappointed I haven’t messaged him?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, mate. He said he really liked your eyes.”

*

Phil drew the short straw this week and now he’s lugging three bags of trash out to the bins beside the shop. He drops them into a heap on the ground, breathing hard through the cotton of his mask. It’s too hot for this. He’s wearing too many clothes and his glasses are fogging up. He’s opening the lid of the bin when he hears a loud crash behind him and someone swearing.

Phil jumps. This back lot can be kind of spooky at night, and even though the sun’s just beginning to set Phil feels his guard go up.

He turns to see - Dan, actually. He’s two stories up and standing on a balcony with his hands frozen in midair. He’s frowning, he’s not wearing a mask. And then Phil sees a broken flower pot dropped to the ground 3 meters from where he’s stood.

“What the hell?” Phil shouts. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry! Fuck.” Dan walks around the small balcony, picking up a water jug. He leans over the side and then jumps up. It’s like he’s got ants in his pants.

“Dan, what are you doing?”

He leans down and shouts, “One sec!” before bolting inside.

Phil just shakes his head. This guy is so weird. Phil can’t help but love it. He gets the bags of trash into the bin by the time Dan’s coming down the stairs and outside next to Phil. He’s wearing a mask now and holding a broom and a dustpan.

He crouches next to the mess. “Sorry,” Dan says, muffled. “It just, tipped over the edge. Fuck, no, Jonathan.”

“Jonathon? My name is--”

Dan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your name is Phil! Shit. I know your name! It’s… the plant. The plant’s name is Jonathon.”

Phil stops. Because that would be weird as hell… if Phil didn’t do the exact same thing. Name his houseplants, that is. “Did you just call that dead plant Jonathon?”

Dan looks up, eyes wide. “Er, course not. That’s fucking weird. And he’s not dead.”

“He? Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?” Phil teases. He remembers that Dan can’t actually see his smirking face. He hopes Dan knows he’s joking. He said it like a joke… right?

Dan’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow before he says, “Fuck off.”

Phil thinks he hears a chuckle and sees Dan rolling his eyes a bit. “Sorry bout your dead plant.”

“S’alright. It’s my fault. I’ve been a bit jumpy lately. And I’m shit at taking care of them.”

Phil starts walking towards Dan, wanting to help pick up the mess, before he remembers that he can’t. He stays stood a bit away from him, useless with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m literally a famous houseplant murderer. It’s what I’m known for,” Phil says. The words feel clunky in his mouth.

“Suppose it’s good to be plants, rather than people,” Dan mumbles. That’s what Phil thinks he says, at least.

Dan stands up and shakes some of the dirt and broken bits of clay from the pot into another bin. Phil looks up to the balcony he’d come from.

“Wait, do you live up there?”

Dan nods and doesn’t hold Phil’s gaze.

“You live above the shop?”

Dan nods again, tripping over his own feet on his way back.

“And I’ve only just now met you?”

Dan looks up and quirks a brow. “We met a few weeks ago.”

Phil shakes his head. “No, I know but, how long have you lived there?”

“Few years.”

“Did you ever come in before all the…” he trails off. Dan can fill the blank.

He nods again, but his eyes don’t focus. “I used to come in a lot. I’d work there sometimes. Sat in the corner.”

It dawns on Phil then, “Ohhh.” That must be why Dan looks so familiar. He was convinced it was some weird Mandela Effect. He doesn’t say that. “I thought I’d seen you before. It’s just hard with the--”

“Yeah, the mask and stuff.” Dan’s wearing a hat today, which doesn’t make it any easier. It flattens down the puff of hair on top of his head. It’s black, just like the rest and says F*CK OFF across the top.

Phil keeps standing there. Which is probably weird. He’s done with work and needs to finish closing up the shop. But he’d like to stand here and find some excuse to keep talking to Dan. He seems really anxious for some reason. Phil feels like it might be his fault and maybe he should just go back inside and leave the whole thing. But he really doesn’t want to. Dan’s almost finished cleaning up. There’ll be no reason for him to stay once it’s all sweeped up and thrown away.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days,” Phil says.

Dan looks at his feet. “Oh. Yeah.”

There’s maybe an elephant in the room that Phil had sort of forgotten about. Or purposefully repressed.

“Hey,” he starts. “I’m sorry if that was weird. Me leaving my number on your cup. I’ve literally never done that before in my life and… I don’t know. It’s just a weird time for everyone and I guess I was feeling reckless and if I’m completely honest, like, a little lonely, maybe? Which isn’t your fault and you definitely don’t have to say anything, I just needed to say- because I didn’t want you walking around thinking I just hand my number to any guy who comes--”

“Phil. Shut up.”

It catches him. “What?”

“I don’t think you’re a creep.”

“Uh. I didn’t say that.”

Dan shakes his head. Right to left and then left again too quickly. “No, I know. I know. I just meant- It’s fine. I’m glad you did.”

Phil doesn’t get it. “You’re glad I gave you my number.”

Dan looks at him finally, doesn’t look away or shuffle awkwardly backwards like he’s been doing the whole time. He takes one step forward and fixes his gaze on Phil like he’s made a decision. He even stands up a little straighter. “Yes.”

“Then why the bloody hell haven’t you used it?”

Dan laughs, like properly. “I’m just- God, I’m a mess? And, I haven’t done this, this, in a fucking long time. Maybe ever. I don’t know.”

“You know, it’s just a number. It doesn’t have to be a this if you don’t want it to be.”

Dan shrugs. “What else could it be?”

Phil leans back against one of the bins, except it’s on wheels so when he does it rolls backwards away from him and he ends up stumbling with his weight pulling him back. He’s able to right himself without making too much of a fool. Dan still laughs though. Phil likes it, he likes that Dan laughs and that he’s probably smiling behind his mask. He’s never thought about how frustrating it might be to not be able to see a person’s smile.

He brushes himself off. “I mean, it could be friends. Or just, hanging out. It could be - whatever you want.”

“What do you want?” Dan doesn’t even miss a beat.

He wishes Dan could see his smile. Maybe he can see it in his eyes. “I don’t know yet. I just think you’re hot and you do cute shit like name your plants. And order the drink I recommended even though I know you don’t like it.”

Dan’s face shifts when Phil calls him hot, but he doesn’t mention it. “Who said I didn’t like it?”

“I dunno, I can tell. It’s a barista thing.”

Dan hesitates. Rolling it around in his head. Then, “I don’t… hate it.”

Phil smirks, even though Dan can’t see it. “Sure you don’t.” It’s nice to be right. Dan never seems excited about ordering the drink and he always scans the menu just in case he might pick something else. Like the plain iced coffee Phil knows he really wants.

Dan looks to the side. “Whatever. Don’t you need to go back to work or something?”

“No, I’m off. Corona-hours mean we close before 5.”

Dan nods. “That’s nice. Sorry you got left to do the trash.”

“Ah, it’s fine. We all do it.”

“Must be nice to have your job back and all.”

“Yeah, it really is actually. I was really scared they were gonna have to close or something. But the owners had this emergency fund. Brilliant, really. I don’t know what I would have done if…”

It was a real thing that Phil had been scared of, all of the baristas had been. A lot of locally owned shops were having to close permanently or figure out a way to serve during the worst parts of the pandemic. This shop isn’t just Phil’s work, it’s his life. Taking it away along with every other freedom he’s used to having - like being able to go see his parents whenever he feels like it and having dinner and board game nights with his friends every week and going to the cinema at least twice every month to see a film - he’d barely have anything left. He’d have his friends and family over the phone and Skype, and a flat he can barely afford on his own when he isn’t working, and all his first world privileges. Like food and water and a bed and video games and an IPhone. Mainly, what he doesn’t have, is a purpose. Which he didn’t think he cared much about, until it was taken away from him.

Dan nods, like he gets it. He probably does. Everyone does. “I’m glad it didn’t. And you guys have got your outdoor seating, which is smart.”

“Not that I ever see you out there,” Phil says, cheeky.

Dan rolls his eyes again, but in a way that Phil knows he’s doing a good job. “I run hot, mate. Me and the sun would go at it.”

“All I do is burn.”

“Not surprised. You’re fucking see through, mate.”

“Maybe I’m just a ghost.”

“A coffee ghost?”

“The best kind.”

The plant mess is all cleaned up. They’re just standing here in the creepy back lot, the sun almost completely gone now. Dan hasn’t made a move to go back inside. Phil could’ve been home ten minutes ago if he’d left after throwing out the trash like he was supposed to. He’s technically missing a family call, but he’s allowed to be late.

Dan shifts, looking towards the dark sky and back up to his flat. “You know, I would invite you up, but…”

Yeah. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Fucking sucks. I kinda just want to keep talking to you.” Phil can’t believe he’s said it. He’s been so guarded this whole time. On edge or just unsure. Phil didn’t know if Dan actually liked Phil too, or if he was here barking up the wrong tree.

Phil smiles. “Me too. I should probably be getting home, though.”

“Right, yeah.” Dan nods. “When are you working next?”

“You still have my number?”

Dan nods, eyes squinting.

“Here’s an idea: use it.”

*

Dan definitely just wants to fuck the rules and bring Phil upstairs. He’s not really scared of anything, but he does want to be a good citizen. And it doesn’t seem too politically correct to invite a hot barista from downstairs into your flat to hang out… and then maybe make out with him a bit. Without the masks. They’re definitely not supposed to do that.

The second Dan’s got the door closed he’s rummaging around in his kitchen for the cup he saved with Phil’s number on it. It’s a bit smudged from the condensation, but still legible. He gets it entered in his phone before he can overthink anything and sends:

_hi_

He thinks that’s good enough for now.

He’s a bit upset about Jonathon, though. He was one of his favorites. But he’d seen Phil down in the lot with the bags of trash and he was so fucking startled that he just… dropped it. It was literally mortifying. He could’ve killed Phil had he been just a few steps to the left.

Phil texts back almost immediately:

_Dan?_

*  
They text all day, every day. They Skype most nights, when Dan feels like it. The thing is, Dan feels like it almost every night. Phil doesn’t drain him like most other people. Talking to Phil is just easy.

It’s easy because they share almost every interest. From music to video games to shitty horror films to political ideology. That last one’s mostly Dan talking, though. Phil nods along and comments his equal frustration, but it’s Dan who rants without stopping to breathe. Phil never complains, so Dan thinks it’s probably okay that he calls the prime minister a “fucktard.”

The last few nights Dan’s fallen asleep with his phone in his hand and Phil snoring on the other line.

Sometimes Phil can’t call because he has these mandatory family calls that make Dan feel like a bad son for ignoring his mum when she asks if he’ll teach her how to set up a Zoom call. Phil doesn’t think Dan should feel bad, he says family isn’t easy for everyone.

That’s the other thing, Phil is so easy to talk to that Dan’s let some of his secrets loose. The things he’s never told anyone, unless he’s been drunk or emotionally compromised in the middle of the night. He tells him about what it was like figuring out he was gay and all the bullying that came with it. He tells Phil details about his dad that he usually pretends aren’t true. He tells him about the depression and the anxiety and the commitment issues and the therapy that actually helped - all the issues. Maybe it’s Phil’s face, all soft and open and listening to every word without judgement. Dan just feels safe. Like the walls he’s built up don’t have a reason to exist anymore and like he doesn’t have to be so careful about his words in case they’re wrong.

It’s kind of the best feeling in the world.

He also tells Phil about the loneliness.

“You haven’t left the house at all?”

“Not until I came to see you.” He says it that way on purpose, and it makes Phil smile. Thank god he can finally see Phil’s face, or all of it. His nose is kind of beaky, and his mouth looks pink and soft. He thinks all those romantic things that made him roll his eyes before. He lets himself, because Phil isn’t going to disappoint him. He already knows that.

“What about food?” Dan can see Phil slumped against his couch, Switch controller in hand. He leans a bit sideways so he’s in frame and looking at his tv at the same time. They’re playing Animal Crossing while they talk. Phil’s meant to come over to Dan’s island for a virtual date, but Dan’s busy getting their picnic ready. Phil’s still playing, jamming buttons on the controller. He’s probably fishing. That’s basically all he does.

“I had groceries delivered. Which is what I usually did anyway.”

“When was the last time you saw another human?”

“I saw you this morning at the shop,” Dan says, a little distracted. He’s hanging up the lights and the symmetry isn’t right.

“No, I meant before everything.”

They don’t use the word much. Maybe because it’s easier to not be depressed when they aren’t facing it head on. Also, Phil is a little scared. He’s told Dan, not for himself, but for his parents. Another thing that makes Dan feel a little like a bad son. He hadn’t really considered it. But, his parents aren’t that old and neither one of them has been as ill as Phil’s dad had been. The idea still really scares him if he lets it get too real.

“Uhm. My memory is shit, I honestly have no clue. It was probably a meeting or something boring like that.”

“What about your mates?”

“I’ve told you, I don’t really have mates.”

Phil huffs a breath, “You must have some friends, Dan. You never like, went out and got drunk with people?”

“Kind of. Not people I actually like. The guys I work with are arrogant shits. I like the women, and I’d go out to lunch with them sometimes. They didn’t invite me to any baby showers or anything.”

“What about guys? Sexy time guys?”

Dan snorts. “Did you really just say sexy time?”

“Answer the question, Danny.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “I mean, there are hook up apps.” It comes out awkward and clipped. It’s just, not something he really tells people. About his sex life and all that. He doesn’t really get why Phil asks. But Phil asks a lot of weird shit.

“I’ve never used one of those,” he says, like it’s normal. Not that it isn’t, but.

“Really?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not lying! I don’t do the casual hook up thing! I mean, maybe. But it’d be someone I meet when I’m at a bar or something. Not online. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I’d get much attention on those apps, anyway.” There’s no fishing to it, just truth.

Dan pauses his shoveling to turn to the screen. There’s Phil, hot and freckled and testing Dan’s self control. “What the fuck, Phil? You really don’t think you’re hot?”

He shrugs. “I think I’m average. I’m definitely not noticeable.”

Dan shakes his head. “Fuck that. I noticed you.”

“I made the first move.”

“I’m shit at moves. And I noticed you like way before that.”

“What? You mean before?”

“Yes, Phil. I would come to the shop and sit in the corner and pretend to work while I just basically stared at you the whole day. I stared at you while you took orders and I stared at you while you bussed tables. Actually that’s when I stared at your ass.”

It’s too much for Phil. He starts blushing and Dan can just barely tell through their shitty webcams. He starts laughing too, like what Dan’s saying is anything but serious. It isn’t, he’s being completely fucking serious. He says that.

“It’s funny… just, no one’s ever said stuff like that about me.”

“Not even your ex?”

“He, uh, he was nice. But he was a little self absorbed at the time. Like, we were just out of uni and he was a lot more career focused than anything. It’s like he didn’t have time for me in his head. I was just there to be his boyfriend because he was supposed to have one, not because he loved me.”

Phil’s told Dan about this guy, the only real boyfriend he’s ever had. Which, to be fair, is one more than Dan. But every time Phil talks about him, Dan hates the guy just a little more.

They’re still friends apparently. Dan tries really hard not to also call him a fucktard.

“I’m not going to be like that,” Dan says instead.

Phil turns to face the camera, setting his controller to the side. “You’re not going to be like that?”

It’s a thousand questions in one, or at least that’s what it seems like to Dan.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to be.”

Phil tilts his head. He does that a lot when Dan’s nervous about saying what he wants to say. Like he can tell, because he probably can. Dan’s not that good at hiding and Phil has learned to easily see right through him. They’ve packed years of knowing each other into three weeks of texting, Skyping, and hanging out in the shop whenever it’s a slow day.

They’re obsessed with each other. Obsessed with getting to know every single detail. Obsessed with finding out the secrets no one else knows. Trying to memorize each other, inside and out. Maybe it’s the fact that they can’t touch, can’t show how much they like each other. Dan’s been fantasizing about what it’d be like just to hold Phil’s hand.

“What do you want to be?” Phil asks.

He doesn’t know if this is too fast. It feels fast. It feels like a 180 from where he used to be. Just two weeks ago he was too afraid to text Phil. Just two week ago Phil was telling him they could just be friends.

“I want to be a good boyfriend,” he says. He couldn’t possibly be scared anymore.

“You will be,” Phil says. Dan’s stomach swoops and not in a good way. Phil might’ve just missed what Dan meant, but. It feels like he’s been left at the altar here. That’s a bit dramatic, but his little character is sat online at a romantic picnic all by himself and it’s all he can see. There’s no way they aren’t on the same page.

He shakes his head. “Phil. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be a good boyfriend.. For you.”

Phil giggles. It’s one of Dan’s new favorite sounds. “I know, Dan.”

“Then why the fuck did you say that?”

Phil giggles again. “I don’t know! Are we boyfriends? It’s not like you asked or anything!”

Dan snorts. “I don’t know what I’m doing, mate. I told you that.”

“So you’re really just gonna drop the B-word like that?”

Dan’s heart beats faster. “Do you think it’s too fast?”

Phil’s face softens, because he knows Dan’s nervous. He knows Dan could easily bolt at any point, that’s what Dan’s told him. That he wants to stay and wants to see this through but that he’s never done it before. Dan doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he wants it. So much.

Maybe they are going fast. Maybe Dan’s just horny, again. It’s all that tension and nothing they can do about it.

Actually, they can. Dan’s done his research and if they go about it the right way, it’s possible. But that’s definitely going too fast. He’s not going to fuck Phil and run. That’s the last thing he wants to do.

Phil’s quiet for a second. “I don’t think it’s too fast, but I don’t want you to…”

“Freak out?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“I like you, Phil.”

“Me too.”

Dan thinks not for the first time that if this is what falling in love is, he finally gets it. The stuff people write poetry about. The stupid phrases like “when you know, you know.” It makes sense now. Because Dan knows.

That doesn’t feel too fast either, but he thinks it might be.

“Come to my island?”

*

The Animal Crossing date Dan sets up for them is really cute. It’s so cute that Phil starts to believe Dan even more, that he’s serious about this.

He takes Phil on a tour and they sit at a little picnic area, impeccably decorated. Dan’s island is in much better shape than his, but he’s a real graphic designer who knows about art shit and symmetry. Phil hasn’t put much thought into his, if he’s honest.

They stay on Skype for hours. It’s one of their longest calls yet. They eat dinner together like that. Dan makes pasta and Phil heats up some leftover Chinese takeaway that’s still good. He watches Dan putter around while he makes his food. To his credit, he isn’t useless in the kitchen and the finished product looks so good that Phil's actually kind of angry that he can’t be there with Dan to have a bite. And other things, obviously.

There’s a part of the night where they start planning a way to see each other in person that isn’t confined to the coffee shop. They’ve finally opened up indoor seating, with socially distanced rules. But it only works for Dan to be there when Phil doesn’t have customers to serve. There are a few days coming up when Phil doesn’t work and Dan says he can’t wait that long to see Phil in person.

Dan drinks wine while they talk and Phil makes himself a hot chocolate. He likes watching Dan grow loose around the edges. He laughs louder and makes silly faces when Phil makes dumb jokes. He has even less of a filter this way.

It leads to things. Things that neither one of them had predicted but definitely wouldn’t complain about.

It leads to Phil blissed out on his bedsheets, his jeans shoved down his thighs and Dan breathing hot and heavy into his laptop microphone. Phil looks at him, splayed out in the camera and showing Phil everything. All the most vulnerable parts of him.

Phil giggled like a teenager when Dan suggested it. But Dan had said things in Phil’s ear that grew hot and low in his stomach until he didn’t have a choice. Dan just has that effect on him and Phil isn’t mad about it. He’s never done anything like it before and neither has Dan, it’s so exciting that way. Dan doesn’t run and Phil doesn’t make it awkward and it ends spectacularly.

Dan says, “Fuck, I want to touch you.” His voice is hoarse with want. Even after all that. Phil feels something catch in his throat.

“That wasn’t enough for you?” he jokes.

Dan shakes his head. “I want to touch you for real. I want to hold your hand and I want to know what it feels like to kiss you and I just want to touch your skin so that I know you’re real and that I have you and that you won’t go away.” It all slurs together.

“We can. Soon.”

“Now. I want to now.”

“Do you want me to send you a picture of my dick?”

“Oh god, that’d probably make it worse. But if you feel like it, I wouldn’t say no.”

“You’re a pervert.”

“So are you, you suggested it.”

“Yeah.” Phil giggles.

Dan’s quiet, running his fingers through his hair and pulling. Phil knows he’s thinking too hard when he does that.

“You were joking, right? When you said you were a coffee ghost.”

Phil laughs hard. It’s not at all what he’d expected Dan to say. “What the hell? Of course I was joking, Dan.”

“Well, I just thought that it’d really fucking suck if I went to touch you for the first time and you were just an apparition or something. Like, it’s finally the moment we’ve waited for for so long and my hand just goes straight through you. I think I’d explode.”

Phil keeps laughing. “You know that’s one of those brain thoughts we don’t need to listen to. Yeah?”

Dan laughs too. “Yeah, probably. But like.. Imagine!”

*

They go to the park on Phil’s day off. The weather is nice and it’s cool enough that Dan doesn’t feel like fighting the sun. He brings sun cream just in case, because Phil inevitably forgets. They both bring their own blankets and their own snacks, because Phil still really wants to be on the safe side. Dan doesn’t have any problems with that. They don’t wear their masks, but that’s okay out here.

They find a shady spot in the grass that’s away from the few people that have had the same idea. They lay out on their separate blankets, faces turned towards each other. It’s like their Animal Crossing date, but in real life. It’s gross and adorable and Dan loves it.

“Are we cloud watching?” Dan asks.

“Definitely.”

“See the bunny?”

“No. I see an alien riding a horse.”

Dan snorts, “Of course you do.”

Dan reaches his arm out across the gap between their blankets. He lets it fall between them, palm up and offering.

Phil looks at it, thinking. “You think it’s okay?”

“I did some research,” Dan says.

Phil makes a face. He always makes it when Dan is being cheeky. “Did you?”

“I did. And it said as long as we communicate about what we’re exposing ourselves to, then it’s up to us.”

“Okay.”

Dan’s heart beats faster. He can’t read Phil’s face. “So, you know I’ve barely been outside. I’ve been to the shop and did an emergency trip to Boots a month ago or something.”

Phil’s face goes a little more serious. “I got tested before I went back to work. It was negative, obviously. But I just, I want to be able to see my parents as soon as it’s safe. And maybe that’s selfish, because travel is so dangerous and obviously I don’t want to get them sick. I think I feel like I might be able to see them sooner if I’m super careful. Does that make sense?”

Dan nods. “Yeah, it does. I don’t want to keep you from them and I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, but we have time to figure that out together.”

“We?” They never finished the boyfriend conversation. Dan’s pretty sure they feel the same way, it’s just the uncertainty of the world making it harder to say out loud.

“Yeah, we. Me and you.”

“We’re a we?”

“If you want us to be. Because I do.”

Phil squints his eyes shut. “God, Dan. If you keep being this lovely I’m gonna have no choice but to fall in love with you, you spork.”

Dan laughs. “Yeah, Phil. That’s kind of the point.” His heart grows three sizes at the word love.

“I didn’t know if that’s what you wanted.”

“Didn’t I say that?”

“Not really. I know it’s been hard for you. I didn’t want to push.”

He’s right, it has been hard. But not when it comes to Phil. The hard stuff was coming out and accepting that he’s gay and learning how to hook up with people in healthy ways, not just in the dark in some guy’s dorm room. The hard stuff was realizing he isn’t wrong and that he doesn’t have to completely conform to a single word to use as a label for himself. The hard part was the PTSD and the trauma and the letting it all go. But he has now.

Nothing has been hard about Phil. Except for the part where Dan can’t touch him.

“Phil, you aren’t hard for me. You’re perfect, you’re amazing. You’re it. There’s nothing about you that scares me and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to.”

Phil smiles, far too pleased. Dan loves that face. “Ditto.”

Dan snorts and rolls his eyes. Rolling away for a second to hide his grin.

“So what?” Phil asks. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

Dan shrugs. “Guess so. That alright with you? Is it too fast?”

“No, it’s not too fast. We’re literally the slowest burn there’s ever been if I don’t get to kiss you until this is all over.”

Dan frowns. “Wait, is that what I’ve agreed to?”

His arm is still stretched out between them. Phil eyes it for a second. He thinks it over for a while before reaching out his hand.

Dan’s heart might stop if Phil moves any slower.

It’s fingers first. They slide together, moving back and forth on each other’s skin. Dan’s savoring every moment. It tickles, that soft and hesitant touch. Phil’s hands are cold and a little sweaty and softer than he expected. His fingers aren’t as long as Dan’s and his palm reaches Dan’s fingertips before Phil’s reach his. He presses his fingertips into Phil’s palm and the lines he can feel there. It’s too soft, too gentle. Dan’s not a very patient man.

He moves his hand, changing the angle and pushes his fingers into the gaps between Phil’s. He squeezes, creating a little ball of energy between them in their hands.

Dan thinks it’s weird that he finds it so sexy and so exhilarating and not enough all at once.

Phil smiles, his tongue poking out. And Dan giggles. There’s a burning in his stomach. He feels like he’s on fire. There’s no point to existing in any other way than holding Phil’s hand. This is the only thing Dan knows in this moment and the only thing he cares about and the only thing in his head.

It’s perfect. It’s amazing. It’s everything. It’s just a fucking hand. It’s Dan’s favorite hand. Phil’s left hand is probably just as good as the right, but it isn’t holding his right now so he’s a bit biased towards the right.

Phil squeezes. Dan squeezes back.

They fall asleep like that under the afternoon sun. Holding hands and looking up at the clouds like a regular summer love story.

*

It’s slow, maybe not the slowest burn there’s ever been but they take their time with it.

Dan gets tested more for Phil’s sake than his own. Waiting for the results is more nerve wracking than he expects but it all feels worth it once the negative is there in all its glory.

Phil still wants to be cautious. So he packs a bag and takes a week off work. Quarantining for ten days felt like enough to calm his nerves. If they were going to get each other sick, they’d get it over with and it wouldn’t affect anyone outside of Dan’s flat.

Neither one of them have symptoms. But the guidance the government gives feels a little bit like russian roulette. Some people take precautions and they still get sick. There’s almost no way of knowing.

It’s not just an excuse to have each other alone all day every day for however long. That’s just a plus.

Phil gets weirdly nervous about kissing Dan for the first time. They’ve built it up into a Thing when it doesn’t need to be. But Phil can barely remember the last time he kissed someone. He thinks maybe he’s forgotten how.

Dan proves him wrong, pretty quickly.

He comes over in the morning on a Sunday and they have brunch together like true millennials. Dan cooks everything and Phil feels like proposing.

Dan’s actually made it pretty clear that he feels forever about Phil, just not in so many words. Phil doesn’t make the husband joke, he’s a little afraid of how serious Dan might take it. His mum would kill him if he got engaged to someone she’s never even met.

Phil helps him clean up after brunch and he continues to stall. He feels a bit awkward walking around Dan’s flat, having never been there before today and knowing so much about Dan. It feels like he should know where Dan keeps his mugs by now. Not that that’s come up in conversation or anything.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He keeps leaning against the counter in the kitchen and tapping on his legs. He wants to touch and pick up every little knick knack Dan has lying around. He can, if he wants to since this place will soon be filled with his germs but it feels strange. He hasn’t been in another person’s house in months.

He knows Dan can sense it. His nerves. After they’ve done the washing up and Dan’s put all the dishes in their perfectly symmetrical place, he takes both of Phil’s hands in his. He pulls him close, closer than they’ve ever been.

Dan kisses him just like any other kiss Phil’s ever had, except it’s better than any other kiss he’s had because it’s Dan kissing him. He starts out slow and gentle, so they can savor the taste of each other’s mouths. Dan tastes like coffee and waffles. That’s like two of Phil’s favorite things.

They stand there in the kitchen, kissing and gripping each other’s hips. Dan winds his fingers in Phil’s. Phil’s pretty sure he’s become obsessed with holding hands after their picnic.

It feels so much like home to Phil to be kissing Dan in this tiny, little kitchen with the windows open and the room smelling like coffee. Music plays from underneath the floorboards in the coffee shop below.

Dan keeps kissing like he needs more and Phil needs it too, he just didn’t know it until now. He’s distracted by how good it feels, letting Dan lead the way and he forgets about what his lips are doing. It’s just all Dan and all comfort and all lovely and all anything he’s ever wanted.

Dan leads them to the sofa and they fall into each other. Holding on wherever they can get a grip and slipping fingers under shirts until Dan’s gasping for air and Phil’s mouthing at his neck.

There’s nothing in Phil’s way. Dan doesn’t tell him to stop and the word yes is so hot in his ears that he goes as far as he can reach.

Both of their tshirts are thrown somewhere and forgotten. Along with their jeans. Dan arches into Phil and takes whatever he can give. It’s just so good and Phil can’t believe he made Dan wait so long.

It’s so much better than their own hands and each other’s words whispered hoarsely through a lagging Skype call. This is real, this is teeth and tongues and Dan’s big hands all over him.

Phil gives himself away like he never has before. And Dan proves over and over again how much he wants to stay.

Afterwards, Dan runs his fingers along Phil’s face. He traces the outline and presses into his skin.

“See? You’re real.”

Phil boops his nose. “So are you.”

“I’m glad you’re not a ghost.”

“Me too.”

*

Phil said he didn’t have to, but Dan felt weird hiding in his room.

Phil’s mum smiles at them like she knows. It’s weird for Dan in more ways than one. He thought maybe they’d be harsh with Phil for being irresponsible and not careful enough during this time. But, they aren’t and Dan thinks maybe Phil’s already spoken to them about the lengths they’ve taken.

Phil said he could skip one week of the family call, but Dan insisted. He didn’t want to get on Phil’s mum’s bad side so quickly. And it’s not like they have anything better to do. Phil’s brother skipped out on it though and Dan feels relieved that he only has to show up for two people rather than four, counting Martyn’s girlfriend.

Phil told Dan in one of their first conversations about coming out to his parents. So it’s not like Dan didn’t know that they were aware of their relationship, it just catches him off guard more than he expects to see two parents not blink an eye at their gay son and his boyfriend.

Dan’s mum doesn’t blink anymore, but she stumbles around the topic like she doesn’t know how to talk about it. To be fair, so does he. But she tries and he could probably try a little more.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Lester.”

“And you too, Dan! I’ve heard so much about you. And just call me Kath, dear,” she says, a little too loudly.

“Okay, Kath.” Phil’s dad just smiles back at them. Phil said he doesn’t talk much on these calls, that he’s not much of a talker anyway so Dan doesn’t take it personally.

“How are you boys doing? I’ve heard it’s been an exciting week for you two.”

Dan’s not sure how much Phil’s told her. He guesses he’s told her pretty much everything. Leaving out the details, hopefully.

Phil squeezes Dan’s hand. “We’re doing good! I think we’re probably in the clear, but I think it was good we did this.”

Dan nods and doesn’t add anything else. It’s actually been amazing. The sex, the cuddles, the three hour breakfasts. It’s everything Dan never got to have.

It’s also helped his head a lot. Phil makes him get out of bed before noon and makes him eat something with protein at every meal. He doesn’t let him lie on the floor for more than an hour and he keeps his ego in check by sometimes winning in Mario Kart.

It’s only been a week and a half, but Dan wouldn’t mind if this were the rest of his life.

*

Phil’s walk to work is a lot shorter now, but getting out of bed is ten times harder.

Dan’s arms wrap around him like a possessive gorilla. He groans at Phil’s alarm but doesn’t make a move to let Phil go. Phil taps on his forearm.

“Dan.”

“Hmm.”

“I have to get up.”

“No.”

“I do.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“I’m gonna be late.”

“But I love you.”

Phil kisses Dan’s wrist where he can reach. He knows Dan’s awake enough to have realized what he’s said. Not that it’s a surprise, but it’s never been said out loud and in the open before. The butterflies in his stomach are having a party.

Dan mumbles, “What? You not gonna say it back?”

Phil chuckles, “Yeah, you big lump. I love you too. Now let me up.”

Dan finally releases his hold and Phil goes to take his shower. Some mornings Dan surprises him by joining in the shower and adding a bit more fun. Phil showers solo this morning and rushes through his routine so he isn’t late.

He gives Dan a kiss before he leaves.

“Don’t forget your mask,” Dan grumbles into his pillow.

“Oh, shit. Yeah.” Phil turns back and grabs his clean one from off the dresser.

“You’re welcome.”

“Water the plants,” Phil says as he walks out the door.

*

They keep making plans for whenever it’s all over. Dan has no idea when that might be and neither does anyone else.

But they’ve decided that they’ve got the rest of their lives for all that.

First on the list is Japan. That’s the dream. They want to go to Japan and have a picnic next to the cherry blossoms. Phil wants to take Dan to the Isle and to one of Cornelia’s shows. He also wants to take Dan to Manchester to see where he grew up.

Dan wants to go to fancy art museums and to a Muse concert and to see a show on the West End. He wants to go to Australia and hold a koala.

They want to get a fish before they venture into any kind of cat or dog ideas. Phil thinks they can adopt a betta before it’s all over but Dan’s not sure he’s ready for the responsibility that comes with being a fish-parent yet. Phil looks at the websites every other day. Dan’s pretty sure they’re getting a fish, whether he likes it or not.

Phil never goes back to his flat, which is probably safer. He keeps it for just in case, because fully moving in together would probably be too fast. Not that they care about that sort of thing. Phil’s contact in Dan’s phone is now listed as: Husband. And he’s still not clarified whether it’s a joke or not.

Phil throws a piece of popcorn into his mouth while Dan sets up the DVD player. He brought over his Buffy boxset on the very first day and he’s just now convinced Dan to watch it.

“Dan?”

“Mhm,” he says, messing around with the remote.

“You’re a well good boyfriend.”

Dan smiles wide, like he has no control over the muscles around his mouth, “Oh. Thank you.”

“I love you.”

Dan turns to face him. He’s got a handful of popcorn ready for shoving in his mouth.

“I love you too.”

For Dan, it’s not really Before the pandemic and After he pandemic anymore. Because who knows when After might be. For Dan, it’s Before Phil and After Phil. And even if they don’t know when that bigger After might come, they have each other right now.

**Author's Note:**

> just a reminder that this is fiction and the way you interact with the world during this time is completely up to you! i am not condoning any unsafe behaviors. please wear a mask :) 
> 
> thanks for reading! catch me on my mess of a blog @graydar on tumblr


End file.
